I have been doing crunches and also exercises for my back muscles. I have had some back issues. Most of the time for years and years… they were an occasional minor annoyance. In the past few years, they have gotten worse. It got to the point that I was constantly uncomfortable and sometimes in a fair amount of pain. It was affecting how I could play and how I could work. Sometimes I couldn’t work it was so bad. A few months ago, I decided I really needed to do something about it since it was negatively affecting my life. So I did.
The great news is that over the past few weeks, I have reduced the back pain. Now it’s back to being an occasional annoyance instead of ever-present. I think that as long as I keep doing the core exercises, I can get it to go away unless I do something incredibly stupid. I’m very happy with the results in my core strength. But…
An anticipated side effect is that I’ve grown about 3″ in my waist. I knew it was coming. I know my body pretty well at this point. And while I’m thrilled I can work and play the way I want to, I’m less thrilled that my clothes don’t fit right and my body is behaving in new ways. It’s most obvious to me when I’m sitting or bending. I have extra mass. Common wisdom is that an inch in the middle means you have gained/lost approximately 10 lbs. Now I know i haven’t gained 30 lbs in two months. But my midsection is 3″ bigger. I don’t tend to lose body fat, I just gain muscle. So basically, I feel even more like a hippo than I did a few months ago.
I’m trying to remind myself that the main point is that I accomplished my goal of getting rid of my back pain. But it’s still hard to get bigger and older in a world where youth and being thin are the thing all women are trained from birth to want and to gain their personal value from. I need to plaster it on the walls so I don’t freak out too much more: NO MORE BACK PAIN! YOU DID IT!
I have so much on my mind today. I am not sure how coherent I can manage to be.
I think perhaps most of this has to do with growing. Growing in experiences and what they teach me. Growing older. I’m not the same person I was 10 years ago. Not even close. In some ways I am a much better person. I learned how to love. That’s huge. I learned how not to be a selfish bitch. I learned how to express what I need. Hell… I learned what it is that I need. That’s also huge. But I have also learned not to trust. The thing about learning how to open up enough to care about other people means they can hurt you. Generally I handle emotional and mental pain very well. I have dealt with it so well I don’t think I realized how it was deteriorating my trust in people. It permeates my whole life. I used to be slightly innocent. Probably too innocent. But I think those days are long gone. Now I’m a strange blend of jaded with massive trust issues and still some naivety. I feel like trying to be in just one romantic/serious relationship right now is pretty ambitious for me. Two might be completely out. I hadn’t realized it had gotten this bad. But I think it has. I feel damaged. I don’t like being unable to trust. And apparently my attempts to fix it have just made it worse.
Also, I can apparently compartmentalize incredibly well. So well I can completely put away something in the back of my mind that would likely make another person positively livid… and just carry on. I’m not sure it’s a good thing. Right now I’d very much like to just compartmentalize away my ability to care about anything or anyone. I’d like to be able to just put it on the back burner and leave it there until I work through my trust issues and learn a better vetting process for the people I’m in relationships with. I am so very tired of being lied to. How can I possibly fix my trust issues when I’m surrounded by so many lies. It’s bad enough being lied to by politics and popular media. I don’t particularly trust people to turn just because their turn signal is on. I don’t trust people to stop at stop signs. I don’t believe the husband any more when it comes to whether or not he’s doing things he’s not supposed to be doing. I have to lie when someone at work asks me what I did last weekend. I hate it. That is what my life has taught me. You can’t trust anyone because everyone lies. That is what I have learned. That is how I have grown.
I have no safe harbor for my trust to find a home in when my whole life is full of lies.
Also, a very handsome young man hit on me at the gym. I remember once I would have found it annoying. Now I don’t. I was flattered even though it was still slightly awkward. I’m sure it was just a awkward for him learning how old I am and that I’m married in addition to the fact that I am absolutely terrible at flirting. But I wish I could go back and thank him. Thank you for reminding me that though the husband thinks I’m much too old to attract anyone not older than I am… that’s just not true. Thank you for hitting on me and then coming back and trying to get my number even though I was sweaty and had no makeup on. Thank you for thinking I was still hot in my natural state. No makeup. No high heels. No latex. Nothing. Thank you so much very handsome young man at the gym. You came along right when I needed it.
I just read a piece on another blog. It was a great piece and I got a lot out of it. I usually do since Ferns is a great writer. But one of the comments really hit me the wrong way. Especially today, when I have been taking an informal survey of some of my younger friends. Wherein I learned that most of them would play with an older partner or possibly do some service, but wouldn’t date them or consider a relationship of any kind outside of kink. And they would also actively rather have a kink relationship with folks their own age. So the younger person who is genuinely interested in pursuing a kink or romantic relationship with someone more than 5 years older (or younger) is a very small pool indeed. The rest are looking for a convenient way to get their kink needs met. I don’t operate that way and I don’t think I ever have. I have dated all over the age spectrum no matter my own age. Connection has always been much more important to me than how old someone is. Apparently that is somewhat rare.
One of my core needs in a kink relationship is desire. I need to desire him. He needs to desire me. If either side of that equations is missing, I really lose my passion to interact with that person. I need to want to hear the next thing he has to say. I need to look at him and want to devour him whole. I need him to find my quirky sense of humor endearing. I need him to get hard looking at me. If that isn’t happening, no hard feelings, but no thanks.
I just became livid reading a reply to Ferns’ post about mutual discovery and kinky dating. A person basically felt obligated to keep exploring the possibilities with someone he or she knew for a fact wasn’t at all suitable for him or her. Obligated. I hope nobody has ever felt obligated to keep dating me or playing with me or exploring D/s with me. Really. And I mean this from the bottom of my black heart.
Don’t do me any fucking favors.
Basically everyone agrees that we need safewords when we play. To keep us all safe. To prove we are responsible players. Except I think we don’t.
If you want to use them, by all means do so! But I don’t think it’s necessary for everyone. I don’t always use them. And by “I don’t always use them,” what I mean is that when we’re not using safewords, the husband doesn’t always have the right to end an activity or scene. He can certainly let me know his wrist is starting to hurt or that he is getting a charile horse. That way I can make an adjustment or take a pause. He can let me know that a particular activity isn’t doing it for him or he is hating it. But he can’t expect that I am going to change the activity or end the scene. In spite of the fact that we don’t always use safewords, he still seems to be in one piece and not dead. He hasn’t even turned in his collar or divorced me. Imagine that. We didn’t use a safeword and it was perfectly fine. It doesn’t make me (or him) an unsafe player. It doesn’t mean that I don’t care about his safety. It doesn’t mean he is cavalier with his body or his health. It means that sometimes we don’t use safewords. That’s it.
In addition to that, I don’t think safewords keep either person particularly safe. Some people just aren’t going to use one even if they are in dire straits. The will just tough it out until permanent damage has been done. That means the tops, sadists, owners, and dominants aren’t protected from accidentally harming their play partner. And not all tops, sadists, owners, and dominants are going to honor when their play partner uses a safeword. So that doesn’t protect the person on the receiving end of the sensation. In my opinion, I think a much better choice to actually protect all parties involved is to know your partner. Take the time to get to know them. Discuss things until you are blue in the face. Ask about past experiences and when things went wrong. When things go wrong, we learn. By taking the time to get to know your partner and what their experiences are, you are much more likely to have a positive play experience.
And, finally, when I do use safewords, I’m completely fine hearing them. The popular opinion on this is that when you hear “yellow” or worse, “red!” that you have somehow failed as a top/sadist/dominant. I don’t feel that way. I don’t take hearing “yellow” as a sign that I must immediately change things. I might change things. If I feel like changing things. But sometimes I feel like pushing him, so I don’t change things up. Sometimes I specifically want to challenge him to get used to a particular toy. And sometimes I’m just feeling mean (in a sadistic good way), and want to do things to him I know he isn’t going to enjoy. He accepted that this is how I work. He knows exactly what he was getting into by accepting my collar. I am also fine hearing “red.” It means he has reached his limit for today. I am fine with that. It doesn’t mean I haven’t been paying attention. It doesn’t mean I can’t read him. Most of the time I can see it coming. But even when I don’t, I don’t think I have failed. I’m a heavy sadist playing with a moderate masochist. Our compromise is that sometimes I play him until he literally can’t take any more. And sometimes I push him past what he thought he could take. That means sometimes we get to “red.” And yet… he still wears my collar and hasn’t divorced me. Yes, I’m definitely doing it wrong. (Except that I’m doing it right for us.)
It’s another less than stellar day. I’m bored, listless, and lonely. I’ve had some great online conversations or text conversations with friends who are trying to help me alleviate the boredom. The husband has called for short bursts of conversation. But I am still bored, listless, and lonely. I couldn’t find a rope bottom today to save my life. I had wanted to attend a rope class going on today, but not if all I was going to get to do was sit on the sidelines. If I’m going to sit around watching life go by, I can do that for free at home. In addition to that, my dog decided to defecate inside his kennel this morning. I’ve washed the dog bed 3 times and it still isn’t all out yet. It also took me over half an hour to get the kennel itself clean.
I’ve done the laundry. I’ve done the dishes. I took the trash out. I have even vacuumed some of the floors. And I hate vacuuming. I haven’t gotten to play or gotten laid in months. I am also having a massive fat day. Or fat week. I’ve been feeling like a hippo all week long. And really I prefer feeling like that badass ballerina elephant from the movie “Fantasia.” I’m trying to channel Gloria from Madagascar, but it’s just not working. At least my hair looks great!
This is not a stellar week. Hopefully next week will be better. But for now I’m bored, listless, and lonely.
I miss you both. I feel slightly guilty for missing both of you. But I do. I miss the feel of the husband laying next to me. How his skin feels on mine and how I sometimes accidentally misjudge how close we are and hit him in the face. I miss knowing he’s coming home while I am asleep and waking up to him snoozing next to me. Sometimes it doesn’t sound like a lot. But right now it sounds really good. I miss the raven even though he’s not here physically. I miss talking to him. Even our texting keeps me feeling connected. And I miss feeling connected to him somehow. I find that I want to see how he is doing. Maybe it’s silly. I barely know how he is doing when he’s actually talking to me. But the nothing also makes me realize that I do appreciate what he does share. Well, now I’ve gotten it out. I feel a bit better. And at least they will both be back in a few days.